


The Story of Us

by newt_scamander



Category: Hamilton - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Gen, Lams - Freeform, M/M, Secret Relationship, first hamilton fic!, i think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8574949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newt_scamander/pseuds/newt_scamander
Summary: A series of dates, meaningful ones. At least, to John Laurens.





	1. Fraunces Tavern

November 17th, 1779  
Fraunces Tavern  
Manhattan, New York  
The room was bursting with cheerfulness, good will, and warmth. A little thing like revolution could be forgotten when there was ale to be consumed, friends to speak to and tavern wenches to tease. Of course, John Laurens was not focused on the tavern wenches, nor any of his other companions. He was engaged in tense conversation with his closest friend. At least, that’s what they called it out of chambers.  
“How is Eliza?” Laurens asked, fiddling absently with the bottom of his pint.  
“She is well, staying with her father, in Albany.” Alexander Hamilton nodded, taking a drink. He swallowed, his eyes taking in the sight of his closest friend. “John, are you well?”  
“I am not ill.” He said simply, gazing into the fire.  
“John, look at me.” Hamilton requested. Laurens tore his gaze from the fire and looked at him, just for a moment. He would not meet Alexander’s eye. “Laurens, what on earth could have you so despondent?”  
“I hear you received General Schuyler’s blessing. Do you plan to marry her?” He questioned, finally holding Hamilton in his sight. “Could it be that Alexander Hamilton plans to wed?”  
Alexander sighed. “John-”  
“Answer the question. Do you plan to marry Eliza Schuyler?” Laurens pressed.  
“Yes.” It was a confession, a shameful admittance. Now he was the one that couldn’t stand to look at Laurens.  
“I thought so.” Laurens nodded. “I hope she keeps you satisfied, Alexander.” He stood, tossed a sixpence piece on the table and stormed out. Alexander didn’t follow him.


	2. Schuyler Mansion

December 14th, 1789  
Schuyler Mansion  
Albany, New York  
Eliza Hamilton was glowing. She was born to be a bride, truthfully. John Laurens watched from a darkened corner as Lafayette kissed her cheeks and tickled her sides. Highly improper but then again, the French had no boundaries. In contrast, everyone else was stiff-backed and cordial. They clearly had not begun dispensing the brandy yet. Mulligan was looking sullen, perhaps it was the lack of spirits that had him so forlorn. Even so, Laurens was glad to be there. He had been avidly campaigning for constituents to his all-black regiments, along with being elected to the South Carolina House of Representatives. He had reservations of course. His last meeting with Hamilton had not gone so well. The letter he had folded in his breast pocket spoke of arrangements and promises, vows that were more clandestine than this grand affair but sincerer, or so Hamilton claimed. Vows of love and devotion. Of a secret part, reserved for and branded by John Laurens. 

“John.” A voice behind him sounded. He suddenly found he was not in the corner anymore, having moved unconsciously to the window overlooking the grounds. He turned and was faced with his wildest daydream and his worst nightmare. Alexander Hamilton dressed to the nines in a borrowed suit. He was not glowing so much as radiating beams of contentment. The room seemed suddenly brighter for his presence, as though it was a recent occurrence. As if his aura was reflecting proximity to something, someone. Presumably, his bride, except that Eliza was leaving the reception hall with Angelica. John Laurens suddenly felt warm, his chest tightened and he looked up. For a moment, they stared at each other’s eyes and everything that needed to be said was simply said. There was no more doubt, no more blame, and no more strife. If they had been alone, there was no telling what John would have done. As it was, he stepped forward and extended his hand. 

“Alexander.” He said, going to shake his hand.

Hamilton grabbed his hand and pulled him close, hugging him like he was running out of time. John hugged him back. He inhaled and even beneath the rose water and mothball smell of his borrowed suit he still smelled like… Alexander. Like the camp. On a too small cot, slowly sinking into the marsh as the mud claimed the bed for itself. “John. I have missed you.” 

Laurens let out a shaky sigh and buried his face in Hamilton’s collar. His friend held him, like the first time. “I missed you too, Alexander.”

“I assure you,” Hamilton whispered. “You have a part of me, a part that will never fade nor be diminished by a brighter light. There is no light brighter than you.” He practically purred. “It remains, irrevocably yours.” 

Laurens knew that Hamilton’s form covered his and took the moment to allow himself to be held. He let a few tears slide down his cheeks and dampen the collar of the suit. He clutched the chest piece and nodded against him. “I am yours.” 

Hamilton nodded again. “Stay here with us tonight. I’ll visit you at half past two.” 

John nodded eagerly. “I’ll be waiting.” He pulled away. He had to collect himself. It would not do to monopolize the bridegroom. “Go, visit your guests.” 

Hamilton squeezed the hand he held. “Don’t wander too far.” 

“I will stay around,” Laurens promised. And he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! This is another branch of my endless obsessions. Hamilton. Wow. 
> 
> I already wrote another chapter, plus I'm working on an optional prologue. 
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr!  
> whatthefuck-scotty.tumblr.com


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